


Scott's Nightmare

by SourWolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SourWolf/pseuds/SourWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreams are a look into the things that affect us the most. After Jackson left Beacon Hills only to return after graduation, he and Scott built something that was helping him to get better. But that doesn't break the bonds between a beta and the one that turned him. Jackson always had a draw to Derek for that reason, and Scott always feared what it meant in the face of everything that Derek had done to simply rid himself of the troublesome thorn that was Jackson Whittemore. This is what happens when Derek tell Scott that he wants to talk to Jackson, and Jackson lets Scott know that he intends to speak with Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scott's Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theskyeskye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskyeskye/gifts).



> This is based on a roleplay between theskyeskye (worldwearywanderer.tumblr.com) and myself. Skye is wonderful and inspiring.

Had anyone been watching Scott, his status as a puppy would have been impossible to deny. His limbs twitched in his dream state, jerking in his sleep-pursuit. His brow furrowed and he rolled restlessly into one position and then another while he groaned uneasily.

He was running, pushing himself as hard as he could, but it wasn't enough. Jackson was escaping him, running straight into an ominous shadow that settled in the distance in front of them. It grew with every step as they approached the mass of darkness. When had Jackson gotten so fast? His legs burned and his lungs screamed with the exertion of trying to catch him.

But the voice in the back of his mind was deafening in its cry to stop Jackson. The shadow looming in the distance was a danger. If Jackson got there... Jackson couldn't reach it.

But he would.

Scott couldn't run fast enough.

Jackson, no!

It was too late.

They were close enough now that the haze of shadow could no longer hide the threat. The shade licked like flames off of the building that was the source of all the darkness, curling and disappearing into the sky in a film of tenebrosity that even the sun at his back stood no chance of breaking.

And there, waiting inside cavernous, reuined estate in the very heart of that animate shade was form that stood in hulking mass, a darkness that stood out even against the darkness that surrounded it. The creature that dwelled in and drank of that ominous murk that was the only source of light, a pair of glowing eyes whose light could only be a reflection off the rivers of blood that flowed deep in the deepest pits of the inferno.

So strong was its presence that Scott was halted with painful force. There was so little mercy that Scott was held in place and forced to watch with watering eyes as Jackson reached the crumbling structure. The darkness moved forward to swallow Jackson and nothing that Scott did could break the inhuman grasp that this place had on him. He struggled with the ferocity of a cornered animal, fear for Jackson coming off of him in waves that caused a fanged, Chesire grin of the approaching creature to be seen second only to those Mephitophelian eyes.

The creature's arms spread into the facade of a welcoming embrace of the father for the return of the prodigal son. But there was no love here, no forgiveness, no tenderness. How could Jackson not see that? Why did Jackson not hear his pleading, fear-ridden cries to stop this, to run while he still had the chance, that he was worth more than that fate?

Finally, Jackson looked back at him. The stare was long and meaningful. It was an apology for wasted time, a supplication for Scott to stop trying and for Scott to accept the way that things were meant to be, a request that he not blame himself, and most of all, a reassurance that this was indeed what he deserved. Everything was going to be okay now. Don't worry about me. Go back to your life. I've fucked up everyone's life I've ever been in. I'm tired of doing that to you. You tried. Thank you for that.

Scott's own gaze was a tear-rimmed, fear-filled plea that Jackson not give up like this. He'd said it himself: they stood a chance. It wasn't a great one, but it didn't have to be. Jackson could have a life. He deserved a life.

As the shadow broke to reveal Derek's face, his mouth opening to reveal more fangs than Scott had ever seen before with the intent of taking Jackson out while he was distracted, Scott bolted awake.

He panted as his lungs burned for air.

"Scott? Scott!" His mother barged into the room, stopping a few stops from the bed and running her hands over her face. "You scared me half to death. You were screaming someone was murdering you."

Scott swallowed hard and shook his head. "It was just a nightmare." He panted, not looking over at his mom. "I'm fine. It was just a nightmare."


End file.
